I Don't Want to Think Too Hard

“Moi!!”

Ah—

Home Sweet Home.

The moment I swept Aunt Mel up into my arms as she came running, I finally felt it in my bones: I was back in Hawaii.

And there, behind her—

There they were. All the faces I'd missed.

But the one I was happiest to see, above all…

“Kala… ra?”

I actually worried for a second that my little sister might burst into tears the moment she saw me.

We did video call all the time, sure—but still.

Then, mercifully.

Kala reached her arms out toward me.

Oh—

I was moved.

I'm not exaggerating.

It genuinely felt as good as winning the National Championship.

“Why on earth do you have so much luggage?”

Aunt Mel, who had come over after handing Kala off to my father, gestured at the three suitcases she'd hauled along.

Only one of them actually contained her things.

The other two were, in their entirety—

“Gifts? For us?”

“Yep. Obviously.”

“There's this many gifts?”

“I've been gathering them for a year.”

Those two remaining carriers were stuffed with things you could only buy on a college campus, or items the University of Georgia handed out to its students as gifts.

Beyond that, there were Georgia specialties like pecans and other local nuts, along with pimento cheese—the snack Athenians practically lived on—all tucked into the gift pile.

On top of that were the random odds and ends I'd picked up whenever the chance arose—on trips to Atlanta, on road games away from home.

But more important than any of that.

“I'm starving to death.”

“Don't tell me you skipped meals?”

“Cereal was all I had this morning. One measly piece of bread on the plane, too. I only got in a light warm-up.”

“Haha. Well then—shall we head home?”

I'd expected it, but the fact that the restaurant staff and even their families had all come out to greet us was genuinely touching.

I went down the line, greeting and hugging each one of them.

“Look at you, all big shot now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Yes, Sir, huh. You really do seem like a proper athlete now.”

“I've been like this since I was a kid—you know that.”

“Haha! Of course I do.”

Chatting with everyone as we went, we made our way to the parking lot.

“See you at the house, then.”

“Yep. See you there.”

Tap.

Tap.

My parents and Uncle Iwai piled into one car with Kala, and I rode with Aunt Mel.

The road from Kahului to Paia.

Old memories came drifting up like steam off the asphalt.

“I remember my first day of school.”

“Haha. You remember that?”

“Yeah. You were working at the furniture store back then, Aunt Mel. You drove me to school every morning. And picked me up after, too.”

“That's right— those were such good times, weren't they?”

“They can still be good times now.”

“Hm?”

With a knowing little look on my face.

I played a song.

For a moment Aunt Mel's eyes went wide—and then the very same smile bloomed across her face that was on mine, and in an instant we'd been flung ten years into the past, singing along to the same song we sang back then.

“I got that feeling—!”

“Tonight's gonna be a good night—!”

“Tonight's gonna be a good good night—!”

“Let's Go—!”

We were stopped at a red light.

And my aunt and I kept right on dancing.

It was just shoulders and upper bodies swaying lightly, but maybe because I'd gotten so big, the whole car rocked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up and down with us.

But.

We didn't care one bit.

“Stress! Stress! I wanna burn it all away!”

“You can cross the line! But don't cross out on me!”

“Haha!! What was that?!”

“Rewrote the lyrics. You like it?”

“Love it!”

“Let's go, Mel. Keep on running.”

“Wooooooooo— Whee—!!”

I love Aunt Mel just the same as I love everyone else in my family.

But the reason we can stay friends like this, despite the big age gap, is that we have a lot in common underneath.

The next song came on.

“Hotel!”

“Motel!”

“Holiday Inn!!”

“Hotel!”

“Motel!”

“Holiday Inn!!”

By the way.

I wonder if the ahjumma next door is still living there?

Every time we sang and danced, she always wore that same sour expression.

“You still live there, right?”

“Woo—! We're gonna need new songs.”

“Then pick some.”

“Do you even know today's music?”

“Most of it? I AM a high school teacher, you know.”

“Perfect— leave it all to DJ Moi.”

Now, how do I make the ahjumma next door's face even more sour?

Ah— damn.

Hawaii is SO damn good!!

#. May 12, 2021

#-1. Maui, Hawaii, USA

#-2. Paia

#-3. Paia Bay

I've said it before, but Paia Bay is one of the most beloved stretches of water on Earth for surfers the world over.

Short of truly foul weather, the waves roll in perfect—all year round, exactly as surfers dream them.

After spending the whole morning regaling my family with just how adorable Kala was, I didn't hesitate for a second when Dad proposed we hit the beach. I called it and headed straight out.

And of course, on the way there.

My doting-brother rant never stopped.

“The two of you literally manufactured an angel.”

“Ah— come on, Moi.”

“I'm serious, Dad.”

For starters, Kala's features are spectacular.

A forehead of just the right width.

Thin but jet-black, deeply set eyebrows.

Big round eyes like a fawn's.

A proudly upturned nose you'd never believe belonged to a three-year-old.

Lips that matched the shape of her face perfectly.

My little sister is, without question—

going to grow into a staggering beauty.

“Well, I can't argue with that.”

“Right? And I swear, the day Kala brings a boyfriend home, I'm going to give that boy a proper education.”

“A father alone isn't enough for you?”

“Two is better than one, isn't it?”

“Agreed. But…”

“?”

“Make it three. Your grandfather's in too.”

Already.

I was dying to know who that giant someone was going to be.

As we waited to cross the road, the driver of a car that had pulled up waved us across.

Dad and I thanked him right away—

and at the same moment, the driver's eyes went huge.

The window came down fast.

The man inside shouted.

“Dwayne Moi Stone! That's you, right?!”

“YES SIR!”

“Wha-ow!! I Love You!”

“I Love You, Too!!”

“Thank you! You just made my day absolutely fantastic!!”

When a total stranger said something like that to me—

a smile bloomed across my father's face.

We crossed the road, and not long after—

father and son set foot on the sand.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“It just amazes me, is all.”

“That your son is a superstar?”

“Haha. You— honestly. Anyway. Let's start with our warm-up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Come to think of it, when I was little, Dad always used to help me stretch, but somewhere around fourth grade we started doing it separately like this.

Running through the stretches that years of steady training had carved into my body, I glanced over at my father, who still kept a lean, athletic frame.

For the record, Dad stands 196 cm—just about my height.

His weight, though…

Hm—

He used to be 225 pounds (about 102 kg).

“230 pounds.”

“Oh— you're still keeping up with the gym?”

“Of course.”

When his shift at the bank ends—

Dad heads straight to the gym.

That's the secret to the lean physique, I suppose.

Though “lean,” in my family's terms.

Yeah, he's still a visibly big man.

“Let's go!”

“Let's Go—!!”

The weather wasn't hot enough yet to drive people away, which meant the line-up was nearly empty—perfect.

After gorging ourselves on wave after wave, we came back up the beach for a bit, planted our boards upright in the sand, and sat down beside them.

Dad had apparently run into a friend and was chatting with someone off to one side, so I, feeling pleasantly drowsy, flopped onto my back right there.

“Ah— this is the life.”

If you've ever been to Hawaii even once—

you never forget the sky you see from this place.

The unhurried mood steeped into the very air.

The sound of waves breaking against your ears.

Close your eyes, and sleep feels seconds away.

“Moi? Moi!”

“Hm?”

Oops.

I really almost did fall asleep.

I jolted upright at my father's voice, spotted him waving from off to the side, and got to my feet.

“Moi, come say hello. This is an old friend of your father's.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, right—you wouldn't have. Noah and I met in college. I used to work in finance back in New York, but I moved back to Maui last year.”

“Ah— so that's why we've never met.”

“To think Noah's son would turn into such a big shot.”

At his friend's compliment, Dad beamed as if the praise had been aimed at him personally.

Good look on you, Dad.

All that hard work paid off.

“Shall we head back soon?”

“We're not getting fish burgers?”

Grabbing a fish burger at 'Paia Fish Market' next to the beach after a surf—that was a longstanding father-son tradition of ours.

But Dad's face darkened.

His friend's did too.

Why?

What happened?

“They've suspended business for a while. Business got bad.”

“Oh no— seriously?”

“I offered to help them with a loan, but they turned me down.”

Paia Fish Market was run by Angela's parents, and our two families had been close since before I could remember.

Back in the day, Angela definitely had a thing for me.

Around ninth grade, was it?

She started dating one of her classmates.

I hated the idea of things getting awkward with a neighborhood friend I'd grown up with, so I counted it a blessing—and then, the year I entered high school, Angela left for college on the mainland.

Now that I think about it.

We've been out of touch for quite a long time.

I had no idea.

“COVID really is the worst.”

“Haha. For everyone, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm afraid.”

“You can say that again.”

Isn't there some way I could help?

This one deserves—

some serious, deep thought.

#. 3:10 PM

#-1. Restaurant Aloha

Ding-a-ling—

“Aloha—!”

Mom's regulars all knew I'd come back to Maui, but travelers who'd finished their second vaccine shots and flown out here kept discovering me on their own, each with a different reaction.

This particular case:

“Whoa.”

“You're good to go? Dining alone?”

“…”

“I'll be right back with you.”

The skinny male customer had frozen solid, his eyes rolling to track me as I slid past.

First things first, I delivered the beer in my hand.

Then I collected the empty glass.

“Still the same old you, huh.”

“I just like it here.”

“Appreciate it. Drink up, son.”

“Yes, Sir. Just holler if you need anything.”

After a quick wipe of my hands on my apron—

I walked over to that frozen man from earlier.

“Let me ask again. Dining alone?”

“Ye—yes?”

“Follow me. We've got a great seat open.”

“Th—thank you.”

“Haha. First time in Maui?”

“Oh, no— actually!”

“?”

“I—I came because of YOU!”

“Oh— I suppose I owe you some service then.”

Once I'd seated the guest, I told him to pick out his order and then ring the little bell at the side.

That's something you won't find in America.

Ring the bell, call the server.

Mom had renovated the restaurant using part of the ten million dollars I'd gifted her—a completely rebuilt kitchen, refurbished interior, and expanded seating.

Word of the place had spread, and solo travelers kept pouring in, so she'd installed single-seat booths for guests dining alone.

The restaurant has two windows overlooking the ocean, and one of them is entirely single-seat tables now.

And then—claiming you saw these everywhere in Korea—she'd put a bell on every single table.

Ding-dong.

“I've got it.”

Mid-slice of a lemon, I wiped my hands on the apron again—

and moved to take the order.

“Loco moco and a musubi, half size, and a Mai Tai, please. And um, if it's not too much trouble, could I get a photo—”

“Yup. Yup. Yup. And of course.”

“Oh— wow.”

“Hold on— one rule.”

“Yes?”

“When you take the picture, you have to shout kimchi.”

“Oh, got it.”

“Great. Kimchi—”

Click.

According to the family, Korean tourists had started pouring into Maui—and Oahu too—sometime last year.

Compared to the old days, when it was mostly Japanese and Chinese visitors, the shift was unmistakable.

And the vast majority of them made a point of seeking out Mom's restaurant—so Aunt Mel, seeing this, put up a sign inside declaring that all photos taken in the restaurant must be captioned with a shout of “kimchi.”

Nothing special, really.

But it became a habit overnight.

Keep a habit going long enough, and it becomes tradition.

What is tradition, anyway, besides that?

Ding-a-ling—

“Alo…ha.”

By the way, the only reason I was waiting tables today was that the mother of Aunt Flora, who was scheduled to work, had fallen ill.

I'd stopped by the restaurant to catch up with the regulars, spotted the poor woman fretting herself into knots, heard her out, and offered to cover her shift for a while.

Mom was hurt I hadn't told her first.

And hurt at herself, too, for not noticing on her own.

“You all set?”

“Yep— thank you so much.”

“Don't mention it.”

“I'll take it from here.”

“Sure. I'll just finish the lemons and clock out.”

When I wrapped everything up and checked the clock—

the appointed hour had snuck up on me.

“Moi, where are you off to?”

“Sorry! Gossip later, I promise!”

“Moi! Honestly!”

Ding-a-ling—

I hustled out of the restaurant, cut around back to the parking lot, and climbed into the pickup truck Mom drove.

Then straight to the airport.

Who was coming, you ask?

The guys.

Quite a few of them had needed make-up exams thanks to their grades, so their flights were landing at Kahului today at 5:40 PM.

I planned to put everyone up in the guesthouse.

The guesthouse was the neighboring property that had stood empty after its owners moved—Mom had bought it and redone the interior, and it was tailor-made for a bunch of guys crashing together.

Mom grumbled that half a million dollars had evaporated in the blink of an eye, but seeing the finished restaurant and guesthouse side by side, she was clearly satisfied.

“Hey—!!”

“Warrup Dawg—!!”

Zamir and Jordan, Tate.

And Nakobe and Travon had all landed on Maui.

I'd seen these guys' faces nonstop for an entire year—

but seeing them in Hawaii felt brand new all over again.

The boys took one look at my outfit and cracked up.

“Damn—! What in the hell are you WEARING?!”

“Hawaii drip. How's it look?”

“Drip is straight-up lethal, bruh.”

“Cut the crap. I saw all of you laughing.”

Mid-raucous, something occurred to me, and without a word of explanation I made the boys play rock-paper-scissors.

“Why? Why are we doing this?”

“Just play first, ask later.”

“Damn— this feels ominous.”

After a tie or two, Zamir and Tate—both throwing scissors—emerged as the winners.

Okay.

Decided.

“Follow me.”

“Hold up, Moi. What the hell was that just now?”

“Follow and find out!”

I led the guys over to where I'd parked the pickup.

First, I loaded the bags into the bed—

then told Zamir and Tate to take the cab seats.

“Then what about us?”

“Ride in the back.”

“WHAT?! Are you serious?”

“Yup. What're you waiting for? Hop in.”

“Unbelievable… THIS is why we played rock-paper-scissors?”

“Yup.”

Unlike a fuming Jordan, Nakobe Dean and Travon Walker climbed up without a word of complaint and promptly claimed the best spot at the front of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bed.

And with that, Jordan's soul briefly left his body.

“What'd I say? Hopping in fast was the right call.”

“Damn ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. Great first impression of Hawaii, man.”

“Kukukuku. Get in. I'll drive safe.”

“This body is worth millions of dollars. You'd BETTER drive safe.”

“I'm worth hundreds of millions, and you know I'm saying that.”

“You're not riding in the back, are you?!”

“…Fair point. That's a fair point.”

Tap.

“Moi!”

Ah—

My mood just keeps climbing.

After checking the rearview mirror to confirm Jordan had seated himself safely, I drove the guys back toward the restaurant.

And on the way—

the voices drifting up from the bed.

“THIS IS INCREDIBLE—!”

“THE SKY IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!”

The Hawaii sky about an hour before sunset has a feel all its own—a mood that exists only in that sliver of the day.

Watching my friends pull out their phones, snapping photo after photo, shooting video after video, I decided that over the week they'd be staying, I was going to show them just how good this place is.

And while they were here, every moment of it—

was going to be genuinely, certifiably happy.

“FUUUUUUCK!!! This is SO GOOD!!!”

“WHOOOOOOAH—!!”

Those two are already having the time of their lives.

The ones sitting next to me, meanwhile, are now—

apparently dying to ride in the back.

Honestly. Do what you want.

#. May 30, 2021

#-1. Oahu, Hawaii, USA

#-2. Aina Haina

#-3. Joseph Stone's House

A night in Oahu.

I lay sprawled in the hammock, rubbing my belly.

Did I overeat?

Obviously.

“Urrp. Whew—”

I'd stake my life on it.

There was at least two kilos of food sitting in my stomach right now.

Digesting all that was not going to be easy on my stomach either.

The friends who'd scattered back to their hometowns from the airport yesterday and I had spent a week together that the word “hectic” couldn't even begin to cover.

We roamed every corner of Maui hunting down tourist spots and legendary hole-in-the-wall eats, spent our middays on the beach tanning and swimming.

Over the weekend, Dad and I chartered two fishing boats and pushed out to deep water, hauling in monster fish well past thirty kilos apiece, one after another.

And the night before we parted ways, we built a fire in the front yard over beers and roasted s'mores—and honestly, that hour was the one that stayed with me most.

The guys texted me the very same thing.

How should I put it.

It was the kind of time when you talk about what's really underneath.

We came out of that week bonded tighter than ever—so much so that it almost hurt the others couldn't be there.

Buzz—

Hannah was coming to Maui with two of her friends.

The delayed visit came down to vaccinations.

One of them had only gotten her first shot, which tripped the ten-day quarantine rule, so their trip had to wait until her second dose was complete.

For me, honestly, it worked out for the better.

Thanks to that, our schedules didn't overlap.

Of the ten days Hannah would spend in Hawaii, five would be on Maui and the other five on Oahu before she flew home.

And I'd be spending every one of those days right beside her.

I figured training would start after that.

We traded a few more messages—

then I set the phone down beside me.

“…”

The darkening Oahu sky.

Above it, the stars had come out in full force.

You could see the stars easily enough in Athens, but it felt nothing like the sky here in Hawaii.

That said.

What was that, back then?

Why on earth did I cry?

Every so often that moment drifts back to me, and I turn it over carefully in my mind—but even now, I can't for the life of me figure out the reason.

“…Who cares, I guess.”

It's a question with no answer to find anyway.

I don't want to think too hard about it.